The Return of the Tequila Monster (Not Really)
Hide your kids. Hide your wife. You don't need to hide your husbands because I'm not like that. But seriously, folks- it's a rare night that you'll see me drink tequila (these days). Last night one of my dear old friends from my bartending days came to my show with her girlfriends, and it was her birthday. And as such, we had to do birthday shots of tequila. If you don't know her you wouldn't understand. Shockingly, we were very well behaved and when I was about to go home she explained to me, "Tequila is your friend. You'll wake up in a few hours feeling great."
Now, I'd like to say for the record, a. she meant tequila in moderation. I'm not talking about a booze fueled evening in which you manage to polish off a bottle of Patron by yourself. That's more in the "frenemy" category, and b. she's absolutely right.
This morning I woke up before the alarm, and immediately started to get things done. I showered, voted, walked the dog (all in a different order - you figure it out), and got my to-do list for the show producer done even before I got into work. I may even do some Christmas shopping, that's how great I feel.
Now, for those of you shaking your head, no - this does not mean I will now go on a three month margarita bender. That's what 2002 was for. But it was a nice night, although I'm sad the shots didn't come out of anyone's navel. That's the only problem I had.